


You're not Alone

by Blackcat0989



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, OOCness, Sam in Hell, post season 5 but pre season 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 17:17:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1175736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackcat0989/pseuds/Blackcat0989
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's in hell, and Dean's doing what he promised and trying a normal life with Lisa. But he's not alright. The loss of Sam weighs on him and one day he just can't take it anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're not Alone

**Author's Note:**

> I know I should be writing my other stories, but this sort of just jumped out and smacked me in the face. And since I first started watching Supernatural I’ve wanted to write for it and then this happened. I’m not promising it’s good, and it’s probably not entirely accurate where characterisation is concerned, but what the heck? Read and tell me what you think!
> 
> I apologize in advance if anyone’s horribly out of character, and I’m pretty sure Dean is. So please don’t tell me in comments that they’re out of character and that this sucks or something please. And please keep your flames to yourself. No one wants to read them, and this would be a good time to pay attention to the saying ‘If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.’
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural or Dean or Sam Winchester (even though I really wish I did). I do own seasons 1 to 8 on DVD and 3 of the novels.

_You gotta promise not to try to bring me back._

_Once the cage is shut you can’t go poking at it. It’s too risky._

_You go find Lisa. You pray to God she’s dumb enough to take you in. You have barbecues and go to football games. You go live some normal, apple-pie life, Dean. Promise me._

_We’re not here to fight you. I wanna say ‘yes’. Look, Judgement Day’s a runaway train, we get that now. We just want off._

_So he knows. Doesn’t change anything. We don’t have any other choice._

_Yes._

**_I was just messing with you. Sammy’s long gone. I told you, this would always happen in Detroit._ **

_It’s okay, Dean. It’s gonna be okay. I’ve got him._

.

XXXXX

.

Dean woke with a gasp, a scream catching in his throat to leave him breathless and almost unable to breathe. He was leaning part way off the bed, arms were stretched out in front of him and fingers grasping at air. His whole body was tense like compressed spring, jittery and desperate for something that couldn’t be done. He let himself slump backwards, one arm falling to his side while the other covered his eyes. He bit back the sob, overly aware of the wrongness of his brother’s absence.

Two months had passed since the Apocalypse had been halted in its tracks, and he couldn’t help it anymore. He couldn’t help but relive the look on Sam’s face as he regaining control of his body, as he spread his arms wide as the Cage opened, as Adam – Michael – grabbed him and they both went tumbling into the Pit…

Dean ground the heels of his hand into his eyes, fighting back tears as the memories flashed before his eyes in a montage of images. It hurt. It hurt so much; worse than when Sam had died in his arms in Cold Oak, worse than when he’d been ripped to pieces by hellhounds, worse than any torture he had undergone in Hell. Sam was in Lucifer’s Cage with a douchebag angel and the devil himself; and there was no way to get him back.

Dean shook his head and sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, eyes drifting lethargically around the room. It was small and clean, with mahogany furniture and creamy white walls. The thick white curtains were drawn, blocking out the light of the sun save for where it filtered in over the top of the drapes. Dean couldn’t stop the sardonic curl of his lip; here he was blocking the sunlight while Sam would never see it again.

The hunter forced himself to stand, taking slow steps out the door and into the hallway. It was all floor boarded, the light brown of the wood and the white of the walls making the place feel lighter and beautiful, the complete opposite of the landscape being built in self-loathing within his mind. His brother lingered in his every thought: would Sam take that job he found in the morning paper? What would Sam think of him if he saw him now? Would Sam be okay with his decision to leave hunting for good?

He jerked out of his thoughts as footsteps approached, the heavy thump of feet on wood as someone climbing the stairs to the second floor landing. He stared blankly as Lisa appeared from around the corner, her happy eyes diming into worry as she took in his exhausted, depressed state. She was at his side in the time between one lethargic blink and another, touching his arm with gentle fingers and leading him back towards the room he had just vacated. Her lips were moving, and Dean belatedly realised that she was talking to him.

“Are you okay?” she asked, manoeuvring him onto the bed again. “You don’t look so good, Dean.”

“Sammy…” His mouth moved without conscious thought, babbling the first words that came to mind. He wasn’t completely in control of himelf, so tired that he couldn’t hold back the spew of words tumbling from his lips. “Protect Sammy… Don’t let anything happen to Sammy… It’s my fault; I should have looked after him better…” He barely recognised his own voice; it was so glum, so downtrodden that it didn’t almost didn’t sound anything like him.

“Dean,” Lisa’s voice was soft and careful. “You know it wasn’t your fault, what happened to your brother. You couldn’t do anything to stop it and he wouldn’t have wanted you to anyway, you know that.”

“I used to envy him,” Dean said dreamily, eyes half closing as he stared up at the ceiling. He spoke as if he hadn’t heard her. He hadn’t really recognised what she’d said, or that she’d said anything at all, drifting as he was in the fuzzy haze of his grief. “Sammy was so smart, so brave, so bright. He hated hunting, but he never backed out of a job when people’s lives were at stake. He could figure things out that I never could, could see the connections between clues hours before I would have noticed them. He was so defiant and independent, he hated how Dad would treat us but it never stopped him from doing what was right.” He gave a small, lacklustre smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “It hurt when he left us. It was like I was being set adrift in the ocean without a paddle or a compass. My reason for existing had just disappeared, left me alone with a man who saw me more as a soldier than as a son. It hurt less back then than it does now, but I could visit him then, make sure he was safe. Now… now I…”

He couldn’t really see her face, but Dean could tell how spooked Lisa was becoming, how worried and confused she grew as she listened to him talk. He was worrying himself on some subconscious level, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. It felt good, so good to finally let all this go. To finally tell someone about all the crap going on in his head.

“Dean, I think you should maybe get some help.” Lisa said carefully, reaching out to take his hand. “This isn’t good for you. You’ve been getting worse since you got here, and I’m getting worried about you.”

“You know,” he said conversationally, a mocking grin forming on his lips. “I’m almost glad for the pain. I mean sure, my wounds have healed, thanks to Cas, but I have these nightmares. I see Sam’s face as he fought his way free of Lucifer’s control, I see the sadness and relief in his mind as he opened the Cage, I see the good bye in his eyes as he takes a swan dive into the pit. The pain reminds me that I’m alive, that I made a promise to my baby brother, and I’ve never broken a promise to him before. I’m tired, Lisa. I’m so, so tired. It’s been two months, how can I last forever without him?”

“You will.” Lisa murmured soothingly, carding a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. “You will. You have your hunter friends, you have me and Ben. You’ll get through it, and we’ll stop you from falling. You can rely on us, Dean. You just have to let yourself.”

“Lisa…” he couldn’t hold back the sob this time, rolling onto his side and burying his face into the woman’s lap as the tears flowed. He cried for his broken family, for himself, for Sam. He cried for all the misunderstandings they never cleared up and the understanding he’d never find a match for in anyone else. He cried for the agony he knew Sam would be suffering at the hands of Lucifer, for the special childhood moments they’d never relive together, for the jokes and banter they’d never be able share. He cried for the voice he’d never hear, for the hazel eyes he’d never see and the gentle touch he’d never feel again. He cried for the end of the life he shared with his brother, and for the times they could have had together, had things gone differently.

And Lisa held him through it, rocking him and shushing him and letting him cry. He didn’t know how much time had passed before another set of arms wrapped around him and Ben’s voice joined his mother’s, the two of them cradling him between them in a way he’d never experienced before.

 He calmed down slowly, slumping bonelessly over Lisa’s lap with tears drying on his cheeks and hiccoughs catching in his throat. He was exhausted, weak as a kitten, and couldn’t muster the energy to even sit up. Lisa seemed to realise this, because she slowly propped him up, letting him lean against her shoulder as Ben held him up from his other side. He tried for a smile, or at least a smirk, but what he managed was more like a watery twitch of his lips.

“Sorry.” He coughed, throat feeling like sandpaper. “You shouldn’t have had to see that…”

“Don’t worry about it.” Surprisingly, it was Ben who answered, his voice surprisingly mature for his age. “You needed to let it out, didn’t you? You’ve been so sad since you got here, nothing like the guy who saved me from the changeling. Truthfully, I was surprised that you lasted this long.”

“Shut up.” Dean huffed, sluggishly smacking the boy on the shoulder. “Don’t make me sound like a chick… no offence.” The last bit was said to Lisa as a last minute thought, the hunter blinking dazedly at the woman holding him up.

“None taken.”

“Dean, you just spent the last twenty minutes crying like a baby, I think I’m entitled to tease you a little.” Ben shot back with a smirk.

“Just wait till I can move my arms again, then we’ll see who has teasing rights.”

.

XXXXX

.

The sun was shining when Dean woke again, warm light streaming in through the open curtains in the room he was calling his. He blinked groggily and slid out of bed, padding into the bathroom to brush his teeth and shower. He turned up in the kitchen thirty minutes later with damp hair and bright eyes, reaching for a mug of coffee and chugging it down.

From behind the kitchen counter, Lisa smiled and poured him another, setting a sandwich down in front of him to eat as he wanted. Ben was sitting at the end of the counter, a textbook open in front of him on a page full of math equations while he wrote answers in a notebook. The boy glanced up as Dean sat down, grinning broadly as he realised that the older man had actually come downstairs of his own volition.

“Feeling better?” Lisa asked, making herself a cup of tea. “You slept for almost eight hours. It’s 4:30 now.”

“…Yeah.” Dean’s voice was mildly shocked, not because of how long he had slept but because he genuinely was feeling better. He was still beat up about Sam, but he was feeling less weighed down than he had that morning. “Yeah, I am.”

“That’s good.” Lisa smiled, leaning over the counter to kiss his cheek. “I’m glad.”

Dean nodded and bit into his sandwich, chewing quietly as he let his thoughts roam. “I think…” He started, not looking up from his plate. “I think I’ll work on the Impala when I’m done with this. I’ve neglected her for the past few weeks and I’m sure she needs a tune up.”

Ben grinned and closed his notebook, sliding his pen back into his pencil case. “Can I help?” He asked eagerly, almost bouncing in his seat. “Please? I won’t get in the way, I promise!”

Dean smiled and reached out to ruffle Ben’s styled black hair, earning a disgruntled squawk from the boy. “Sure, kiddo.” He grinned. “I’ll teach you how to care for her, so you can get her purring all by yourself someday. Just don’t try to get into the trunk, okay?”

“Okay!” Ben nodded and bounced to his feet, grabbing Dean by the shirt and dragging him to the garage where the Impala was parked.

Dean wasn’t completely alright, and without his brother he probably never would be, but he could at least live the life that Sam would have wanted for him, which Sam had wanted for himself more than anything.

A paying job. A loving family. A place to call home.

_I’ll live for you, Sammy. Just like you wanted me to._

**Author's Note:**

> So, I don’t really know where this came from. I wasn’t planning to start writing, and then suddenly this just leaps out at me and smacks me in the face. I was thinking about how, when Sam died in Cold Oak, Dean was heartbroken, he make a demon deal to bring him back for goodness sake! So I thought, how would he have reacted in that year after Sam went to the Cage? He wouldn’t have been even close to alright for months, so he must have had a bit of a meltdown at some point. I listened to My Immortal by Evanescence and this just sort of wrote itself. So yeah, hope you guys liked it!


End file.
